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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314180">A cautionary Christmas tale about the woes of being "that kinda girl"</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candlejack/pseuds/Candlejack'>Candlejack</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rick and Morty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Grooming, Horror, Incest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:02:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candlejack/pseuds/Candlejack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Morticia wants more to life than what her crusty, mean grandmother can offer her. Would her life had been differently had she been with a Rick instead? Taking matters into her own hands, she becomes a "Rental Morty" for lonely Ricks, but why do people keep telling her it's a bad idea?</p>
<p>Written for the Rick and Morty secret santa 2020!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Morticia (Pocket Mortys)/Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A cautionary Christmas tale about the woes of being "that kinda girl"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Merry Christmas and happy holidays! C:</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morticia had nothing to be sad about. At least, that was what she had convinced herself. There was always food to eat, a roof over her head and another adventure to go on with her grandma. Still, as average as her teenage misery was, she felt that in all other aspects, she was far below average. It was hard not to when she was constantly comparing her intelligence to her smart and cool grandmother (who was the ruler of galaxies), and on the other hand, she was constantly comparing her looks and style to the goddess Jessica (who was the ruler of the school). She could find nothing remarkable about herself. From her gangly legs and arms to her flat chest and boxy figure, she was absolutely the definition of unremarkable. In fact, it might have been her picture in the dictionary for that particular word. Still, maybe if she just wore the right clothes, or the right eyeshadow, the right earrings, maybe she'd be able to grovel in the shadow of Jessica's beauty, and not just lament it from afar. Then maybe, at least, she'd have that going for her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Make-up makes you look like a whore, don't wear it," her grandmother coughed out, particles of spit hitting the cashier's galactic window-pane. The cashier didn't mind her spittle, he was made out of slime anyway. Morticia didn't fail to notice the irony that her grandmother was wearing makeup herself, a flashy lipstick, dark eyeshadow and clumpy mascara combo. Still, with a pout, she placed the lipstick back onto the its rightful place on the shelf. She was right anyway, she always was. </p>
<p>"-perfect, really. Next time, Morty, don't fuck it up by trying to blow the president's daughter." The husky voice of a Rick entering the store had Morticia hiding behind the aisle. Her grandmother always told her to look out for Ricks. They were dangerous, guided by testostorone and other sexual urges that she didn't want to get more in depth with. The Morty sauntering behind him walked with the confident strut only a teenager in love could. Still, he managed to get out of his daydream enough to spot her hiding.</p>
<p>"Whoa, Rick, it's one of those, uh, super rare me's." Morty pointed as he pulled on Rick's labcoat with his other hand. </p>
<p>"What? One with a brain in his head and not in his penis?" </p>
<p>Ah, he spotted her. Ricks and Mortys, as common as they were, she had been kept safe from her whole life, so seeing them up close like this was a new experience for her too. She could see the way that his lip twitched, as if he had prepared some grand gesture of "that's not that impressive," but it HAD somehow impressed him, and instead he was gaping at her, not mouth wide open, but still enough for her to notice. <br/>A man as smart, cool and dangerous as Rick Sanchez was somehow impressed by a girl who saw herself as nothing but below average. Her mere existence as an anomaly of nature was enough to make him swallow his own words. Like a flower opening for the first time, taking in as much sunshine as possibly, her self esteem needed it, flourished in the attention. </p>
<p>A lazer gun poked the back of his head. </p>
<p>"Stop fucking gawking at her, you vile predator." The equally gritty voice of Ricc Sanchez, Morticias grandmother who had just finished paying the cashier for a spare turbo exhauster, was the one holding a gun to the twin-strangers head. </p>
<p>"Whoa,whoa, beautiful, gorgeous, honey, calm down there! Y-you don't wanna shoot someone in front of your daughter, do you?" He nervously fumbled with his arms raised high as Morty shook in place, uselessly whining. </p>
<p>"Oh, shut up, that doesn't work on me. Daughter-Schmaugther, that's my grand-daughter and we both know it. Get out before I count to three," she burped out, opening her flask with one hand. </p>
<p>"Whoa, your grand-daughter?! You're so beautiful, I just thought that-"</p>
<p>"1."</p>
<p>"W-w-with skin as wrinkle-less and poreless, I-I-I-"</p>
<p>"2." A burp.</p>
<p>"Morty, we're getting the hell out of here-" he grabbed his grandson's arm, kicking the door open, and Morty shared a frightened look with the young girl. </p>
<p>"3." </p>
<p>They were already gone. </p>
<p>The grandmother zapped behind Morticia, creating a familiar neon-green portal. </p>
<p>"I told you Ricks were no good. Stay clear of them, you hear me? If they could, they'd rape every hole in your body until you're filled with maggots and cum and shit." <br/>Morticia didn't know what maggots had to do with any type of bodily fluid, but then again, all she her knowledge came from Pornhub. </p>
<p>"He wasn't that bad. I think you were being a little mean to hi-" Morticia couldn't finish the sentence before her grandmothers wrinkled, well-manicured hand caught a hold of her hair. </p>
<p>"Do you wanna be raped by an old man, is that it Morti? I SAVED you, don't you understand? God, you're so dumb." She let go, leaving a pouting Morticia walking behind her, massaging her aching scalp. </p>
<p>He didn't seem that dangerous. In fact, her grandmother seemed a lot more dangerous. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>--- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fingernails scraping between hair follicles, massaging the shampoo further in, Morticia heaved a sigh and let the scalding water wash the buildup away. She always took a bath after every adventure, in case she had any flesh-eating space-germs on her. <br/>Turning off the faucet while shaking her head like a poodle, she draped the surpisingly dry towel around her right as an intrusively loud knock disturbed her. </p>
<p>"Morty are you done? I think I forgot my magazine in there." None other than Grandma Rick, who had the amazing abilty to always barge in whenever Morticia had to pee. <br/>And sure enough, there was an interreality magazine on the shelf next to the toilet. Reading a magazine on the toilet? Unhygenic. <br/>Morticia opened the lock, stepping aside as her grandma barrelled in. </p>
<p>"Good going, shithead, it's all damp and ruined now because of your stupid bath! What were you doing in here? Did you get stuck on the toilet?" Her wrinkly fingers held the dripping magazine up. Morticia looked to the ground with a plump frown. </p>
<p>"Sorry grandma, didn't know it was there," she muttered out before getting said magazine smacked in the face. </p>
<p>"Keep it. I can't do the crossword puzzles anymore. The pencil's just gonna whizz all over the place." <br/>Morticia wouldn't glance into the offending magazine until she was dry and alone in her room, sprawling it and herself out on the floor. It was a little boring. It wasn't everything she understood, lots of intergalatic slang and ads for things she wasn't sure what were meant for. <br/>Two sleemeks for the price of six. Was that a bad deal? Probably. <br/>Her eyes skimmed past article and ad, in fact, she couldn't tell the difference between the two, finding that they often mixed in the middle. <br/>That was, until something caught her eye. </p>
<p>"Tired of being broke? Wanna buy whatever you want without asking Rick for money? Try being a Morty for a lonely Rick! Rental Morty - Call us today!" <br/>Morticia thought it was funny how enthusiastic the Morty on the ad looked next to a near-death Rick, holding his hand as if to mark him as a blessing soon to be gone. <br/>She skipped on a few pages ahead, still thinking to herself how funny it was. <br/>Her finger circled another ad, before dipping into the previous page, finding the Rental Morty ad. <br/>Her curiosity bit into her humor, and soon she didn't think it was funny anymore. It was interesting, exciting and enough to make her wonder.<br/>What would life be like had she grown up with a Rick? <br/>She thought back to the Rick in the store. He had looked at her like she was the center of the universe, and that was something she'd never had before. <br/>"Super rare, huh?" she whispered to herself. <br/>Maybe she wasn't anyone to her grandmother, but to every other Rick out there, she was rare. A treasure. Would they treat her like one?  <br/>She pondered and pondered and pondered until she held her phone in her hand, dialling the number. <br/>It beeped three times before the shrill voice of a Morty answered her call.</p>
<p>"Rental Morty Service, how may I help you?" </p>
<p>She gulped. "Hi, I'd like to, uhm," well, what did she want to do? </p>
<p>"A Morty, huh? Tell you what, tell me your coordinates and I'll open up a portal right away, let's talk here." <br/>Whoa, they certainly wasted no time. Morticia looked at the tattoo her grandmother had gotten her on her arm. In case she got lost in the universe, of course.</p>
<p>"D-0111." <br/>No sooner had she said the last 1 before a portal emerged beneath her, tumbling her and the magazine around in gravity. She felt the room shift at least into 9 different directions over and over before she ended firmly on her back. That was funny. She was lying on her stomach before. </p>
<p>"Oh, shit, sorry, I- uhm, portals aren't really my specialty," the Morty with glasses at the front desk scrambled, a pen falling to the ground in his chaos. </p>
<p>"Mhn, it's okay. I'm not hurt," she replied, her hands brushing any hair longer than her bangs out of her face. <br/>As she stumbled to her feet, she dusted off her jeans, patting her hips to clean her hands as best as she could. She smiled at the bespectacled Morty whose face fell further and further.</p>
<p>"Ah, I'm not really supposed to do this," he groaned and rolled his head around, a low whine making her smile falter. </p>
<p>"Wha-whaddaya-" she didn't get to finish her stumbly question with how loud he sighed.</p>
<p>"Look, discriminatory nonsense paragraphs aside, this whole business is a little shady as it is, but I'm technically not allowed to do this or that, so I'm in a bit of a bind here, you get me?" he fixed his tie, messed it up and fixed it up again as he rambled. "You're a Morticia, right? They're kinda not allowed here." </p>
<p>Oh, ok.</p>
<p>Of course.</p>
<p>"Wait, why?" she asked, more annoyed that she had been dragged out of her dimension with no warning just to be spat back. </p>
<p>"You wanna be a Rental Morty to a lonely Rick, right? Well, Ricks are dangerous." Yeah, she had heard that one before, "super-duper-dangerous." The Morty emphatized it with flat hands parallel to his glasses. </p>
<p>Oh well. Maybe the danger was too much for her.<br/>Maybe she was just supposed to sit at home, cutting holes into mens perfume ads. <br/>As her shoulders sagged, so did the Mortys hands. One thing that was worse than a dangerous Rick was a sad Morticia. Just like a babys cries could damage hearing, her sad eyes could ruin a soul with prolonged exposure. </p>
<p>"Aaah, I suppose," he groaned, gritting his teeth, fiddling with his black frames. Her frown turned slightly upward. He turned to an old monitor, at least early 2000s model. His way of typing without using a mouse was mezmering. </p>
<p>"Maybe I'll give you a... slightly more normal Rick. High serotonin leveled. Morty mortality below 2%. That's pretty good," he said with elated pitch. 2%... that's 2 Mortys dead out of 100? Maybe they really were dangerous. <br/>"So, look," Morty turned back towards her as a printer behind him whizzed, "This is all pretty hush-hush. Don't tell your Rick anything. You have another one, right?" <br/>She nodded as he spun in a circle on his spinny chair, grabbing the paper and handing it to her in a practiced motion. <br/>"It's pretty standard procedure to implement a chip into your Morty that activates when they come near another Rick. That's why there are no Ricks in this building, just me." He smiled at her as he rested his chin into his connected hands. </p>
<p>"Don't you get lonely here, then?" She asked, trying to read the paper in her hands but not quite focusing with his polite staring. </p>
<p>"Hmm, I suppose," he looked a bit melancholic, holding a brief pause before continuing, "but this job pays a lot of money, so I don't mind." <br/>Her entire body perked up at the magic m-word. <br/>Ohh, right that was a factor too. </p>
<p>Nice.</p>
<p>"Well, I'll let you read in peace. I gotta plop in all your stats and... important business stuff," he cracked his back, his eyes wandering to a Nintendo DS hidden out of sight. <br/>She gave a non-commiting grunt as the paper in her hands absorbed her. A contract, huh? She had to sign with her ID and name and all. It looked scary professional. </p>
<p>"I'll try to aim better this time." </p>
<p>She gave another grunt. </p>
<p>BZOM. </p>
<p>Her head hit the carpet again, and she groaned as she rolled over, her limbs tangled between the contract and the magazine beneath her. <br/>Oh well, suppose she needed the time to think about it and read the contract through. </p>
<p>"Mort, there's dinner," Summer called through the door, making the girl scramble the contract into her jeans pocket with stuttering affirmation that she'd be down ASAP. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ooh, this hairclip would be super fetch on you," Summer purred, pinching it to her bangs. It reminisced a flattened pearl, somewhat like a moon in her hair. Morticia looked into Summers vanity, not sure what fetch meant or if she did look that way. </p>
<p>"It looks like you have three eyes," Ricc snarled, sipping from her hip flask. <br/>Summer ignored her, jumping to her closet to find something quickly. </p>
<p>"I've got the perfect thing. It'll fit so good." <br/>Morticia looked into the mirror. Well, it kinda did look like she had three eyes. Her eyes were pretty huge. Too huge. She looked like a bug. Her self esteem lowered into nothing until she saw what Summer pulled into her face.<br/>A pearly white miniskirt. It shimmered with a slight glittery effect, just like her new hairclip, and Morticia looked like a deer locked in headlights. </p>
<p>"Hey, hey, hey, what are you thinking about making a girl like her wear something like that?" Ricc stuttered out in anger, Summer rolling her eyes with a growl. A girl like her? What was that supposed to mean. What exactly was LIKE HER? </p>
<p>"Oh shut it, granny, let's see what you look like." Summer threw the skirt at her little sister who caught it, looking more and more like a deer on ice. <br/>She stumbled out of her jeans as her sister and granny made the rooms tension worse with their aggresive silence. What did she mean... </p>
<p>"Great, let the kid flaunt her ass for all the worlds pedophiles to fap at her." Her grandma hasn't been that heated since that one time her savings box was teleported to the wrong planet by her drunken mistyping. </p>
<p>"Oh lord, granny, relax, she's not walking outside like that... at least not yet," Summer grinned as Morticia pulled the miniskirt up around her hips. She fumbled the zipper a little, but as she got it on, it actually fit her. </p>
<p>"Right, why not just let her get kidnapped and molested to death over and ov-"</p>
<p>"I'm fourteen," Morticia intercepted with more impulsivity than bravery, "almost fifteen actually. So, that's like, legal someplaces, I think, and-" </p>
<p>"You know what, you're right," her grandmother cut her off, raising her hands in mock surrender. She waved dramatically at the window next to her, "Just go out there, Morti. Wear a mini-skirt, a bra, hell, don't wear anything at all." </p>
<p>"Grandma Ricc, stop that!" Summer snapped, her big sister defenses flairing up. </p>
<p>"No, no, Summer, she's right, she's an adult now, woohoo, fifteen."</p>
<p>"I told you to stop it!" Her big sister stepped in front of her, and Morti took a step back, sensing their argument was getting a little out of control. How many swigs had she had of that bottle anyway? </p>
<p>"No, no, no. Let her, Summer. After all..." Ricc looked directly at her, a gaze that would shame Medusa, "Nobody would risk prison-time for a girl like her. She's got less presence than a brick, for crying out loud." </p>
<p>Ah.</p>
<p>So that's what Ricc meant by a girl like her. <br/>Summers jaw dropped, and an icy chill ran through Mortis veins. </p>
<p>"Morti, go to your room. Don't listen to granny, she's had too much to drink." Summer couldn't look at her, no matter how much Morti needed her to. Her movements felt mechanical. Robotic legs stepped one-two, one-two out the room, closed the door behind her. Heard her grandmother and big sister arguing. </p>
<p>"What is wrong with you?" </p>
<p>"It was a joke, come on!" </p>
<p>"Don't tell her stuff like that!" </p>
<p>"Come on!" </p>
<p>"She has it hard enough already, she doesn't need to hear that." </p>
<p>Ah, but she didn't disagree. <br/>So, Summer agreed with her. <br/>Mechanical legs, and mechanical arms, Morticia returned to her own room. <br/>She felt nothing. Numb inside, she kept moving. Morticia found the crumbled contract, unread and forgotten in an unwashed pair of jeans from a week ago. <br/>She read it, robotically so until her eyes watered up. No matter how much she wiped, her eyes kept spouting water. She didn't notice her hand was shaking until she tried to sign the straight line at the bottom of the final sheet of paper. </p>
<p>Whatever, whatever, whatever, just take her away from here. </p>
<p>Her numbness faded away, unlocking the lid on the jar that held her feelings tight, sadness, frustration, anger and hurt all leaking and bursting. <br/>She ran up to her door, locking it, crumbled contract even messier from her emotions spilled all over it. Crinkled and frightened, she managed to wipe her eyes for just enough to look through her contracts, finding the single unknown number through a uniform list of her grandmothers recent calls. </p>
<p>"Rental Morty Service, how may I help you?" </p>
<p>She steadied her voice, but it still cracked. </p>
<p>"D-0111." </p>
<p>This time she braced her head before it hit the floor. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her fingers tapped the Nintendo DS, the little boy character marching in front as his companion monster pet flew behind him, wings spread majestically. <br/>The little boy character turned around, greeting the monster who voiced its joy in a text bubble beneath.</p>
<p>"JESSICA IS GLOWING WITH HEALTH." </p>
<p>"You named it Jessica?" Morticia asked, the DS snagged out of her hand by a coughing bespectaled Morty. </p>
<p>"S-So? It has nothing to do with anyone, you know? J-Jessica's a very normal name." His entire face was red as fire as he snapped the DS shut, hiding it inside a nearby drawer. <br/>Morticia smiled, the soles of her shoes idling on the floor. </p>
<p>After falling head-first on the floor, she hadn't been able to hold it in anymore, bursting into explosive sobs and howls. Morty with the glasses jumped out of his desk, offering napkins and akward shoulder-pats. He pulled a chair from another nearby room, apparently used by Mortys to teach other Mortys how to behave. He tried to explain something uneccesary, but she wasn't in the mindset to pretend to listen. <br/>Figuring this was a girl-problem and beyond his control, he offered what always helped him when life was getting too much to handle: his Nintendo. </p>
<p>"So... you wanna talk about it?" he asked, offering an akward cross between a smile and a frown. </p>
<p>...Did she? </p>
<p>"Not really." </p>
<p>This wasn't something she needed help with. It was an unparalled fact that a girl like her was unfit for societys standards of beauty. A girl like her, huh. <br/>Sensing her eyes were watering again, the Morty panicked.</p>
<p>"So, uhh, did you read the contract?" He awkwardly tried to change the subject, hoping it could distract her from whatever made her so sad. His soul had sustained too much damage already. He needed at least 3 days jerk off vacation to heal as soon as he was done with her here. <br/>She looked over at the crumbled contract on the counter. </p>
<p>"Uhm, yeah," she lied. He didn't notice her hesitation, taking a confirmation as set in stone. </p>
<p>"Great, I'll set up a date for you and the Rick- ah, a date as in a calender-date not, well, you know, you read the contract and all, haha. Now," he mumbled, grabbing his portal gun. It looked smaller, black and stylish compared to the one Grandma Ricc had. He turned a small knob on it, and the green galaxy inside it transformed in colour, from green to red to a bursting sunflower yellow. "This is gonna hurt a bit, so grit your teeth and bear with it." </p>
<p>She didn't have enough time to process his words before the gun was pointed right between her eyes. </p>
<p>Her lips pouting into a downward 3, he fired the gun right into her brain. <br/>Being slapped with the wet magazine in the face was a zero. It didn't hurt, it was just an uncomfortable, wet feeling. <br/>Being flung into this dimension and hitting her head on the floor was a 1, since it hurt quite a bit, and her eyes saw white dots and sparkles for quite a bit. <br/>The pain of the modified portal gun shooting through her brain was beyond 100. <br/>The sparkles and dots from before couldn't measure up to the static snowstorm filling her insides. Her every nerve electrified like a thunderstorm, sending every cramp out to every bone in her body crackling and fizzling like soda filled her veins. <br/>Her head so far back it hit the chair behind her, bending and bending until she was certain it would roll off and her nose would reach her tailbone. It subdued slowly. <br/>At first she felt her fingernails fall off and slide back in, the joints in her knees and elbows split into two until she was unable to move them- then they rearranged, like a mismatched Barbie. <br/>Slowly she crawled back and back and was molded back into shape.<br/>She hadn't noticed that her mouth was open, or that she was screaming. Her hands were shaking, her eyes slowly opening and she croaked out a final huff, saliva dripping down her chin. <br/>How long had she been screaming for? It felt like less than a second, but it had to be longer for the Morty to be holding his ears with a pained expression. </p>
<p>"Sorry about that," he mouthed. Or at least, she thought he did. The ringing in her ears still hadn't subsided yet. <br/>Looking down at her own body, she saw that it was normal. All the horrific feelings and visions had all been in her head. Her fingernails were untouched, as were her knees and elbows. <br/>"Okay so, all Ricks usually put a microchip into their Mortys brains," he pointed at his own head as he whispered his explanations. At least, Morticia heard it as whispers, "They activate when a Morty comes near another Rick. Security measure to prevent abductions. But since you're gonna be meeting a few other Ricks, we gotta deactivate it. Nothing harmful, just drains it of battery life, or something, I'm not sure, but it's a little brutal, sorry." <br/>Her breathing was still ragged, but at least her hands weren't shaking as much. She wiped her cheeks, ah, they were wet. <br/>"But, I'll call you when I've got an, ah, uh, calendar-date for you." His smile reassured her a little. He was a little like the brother she never had. "This is exciting, right? Hahah." <br/>She chuckled with him, scratching flaky spit off her chin. Her heart was still beating, but her hands weren't shaking anymore. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The phonecall was sooner than she expected. The next day after signing, they called just as she finished her homework. <br/>She had finally read the contract through. It seemed reasonable. <br/>"1. No touching. No hand-holding, headpats, hugs, kisses or high-fives. Keep at arms lenghts.<br/>2. Never mention your own Rick<br/>3. No monetary compensation or gifts. <br/>4. Don't stay longer than the intended time.<br/>5. Do not feed after midnight." <br/>She didn't really understand the last rule, but it was probably an obscure reference that flew over her head. She suspected a Rick had made the rules list. Perhaps the same Rick that had planted the microchip into the brain of the Morty with the glasses. </p>
<p>"Are you ready to go?" Mortys voice was on the phone, and she nodded before realising her mistake, stuttering out confirmation instead. <br/>Closing her eyes and shielding her head, to her surprise she didn't even notice that she had been transported. She peeked one eye opened, glancing around to see that she had landed safely in the office dimension. <br/>Instead of the usual Morty with glasses, another business Morty sat, his hair sleeked back. </p>
<p>"Hiya, oh geez," he scrambled as he saw her fully, "we're not supposed to get girl Mortys! Ricks go bananas!" His panic made her falter.</p>
<p>"Where's the usual Morty? The one with the glasses?" </p>
<p>"Huh? Oh, he's on vacation," the sleeked Morty paused, scrambling through papers like a squirrel intruded. "Look, you're not supposed to be here, did you pick up the phone for a Morty or...?" </p>
<p>Offended, she puffed her cheeks. Again with the Mortys are better stuff... "The other Morty said it was okay." She crossed her arms, making the sleeked back Morty panic more.</p>
<p>"Okay. Aw, shit, fuck, okay, uhm," his arms flailed harder, making him resemble a centipede with flying papers. "So like, you're aware of all the Morticia-Rick dangers," he stuttered until he was barely talking. </p>
<p>"I know Ricks are dangerous or something," she muttered non-commiting. The way she rolled her eyes was definetly something she had snapped up from Summer. </p>
<p>"Look, I'm just warning you, okay, like..." He paused his frantic movements for a moment, "Ricks they, they go berserk when they meet Morticias. Like, sure, they're nice at first, and they're like hi-how-are-you and all that, and that's fine I suppose," his red thread became tangled until he snapped back into focus, "look they, they eat Morticias. I don't know why, but they just snap and-" he looked up at her, with the way her arms were still crossed, he knew he wasn't coming through to her. </p>
<p>"... Eat Morticias?" That sounded a little extreme.</p>
<p>"Look, it's a rumour I heard, okay?" Before he sure was presenting it as pure facts. </p>
<p>"I have a Rick and they never tried to eat me," Morticia elegantly circled around the fact that her Rick was a Ricc, but nobody could hear the difference anyway. What kind of name was Ribecca anyway? </p>
<p>The Morty faltered, pouting. "Okay, so... Okay so maybe it's a rumour..." <br/>One of her eyebrows lifted. What did it matter to her anyway? She was a girl like that. Nothing would happen to a girl like her. </p>
<p>"I'm just sick and tired of people telling me I can't do stuff just because I'm a girl," she gritted out, clenching her arms tighter. The Morty looked through his papers with panicked haste. </p>
<p>"Okay, okay, but still, like, be careful." </p>
<p>"I know, and I've been careful, all my life." She tried to stop herself from ranting, but it was hard. She was like a helium balloon slowly leaking air, and now it couldn't stop until it was all out. "Maybe I'm allowed to do one stupid, dangerous thing my life? How come Mortys get to do anything they want, but just because I'm born a girl, I have to look out for this and look out for-" </p>
<p>The Morty pointed the portal gun at her with a guilty expression. </p>
<p>With a zap, she was in a sunlit coloured hallway, facing a wooden front door. Her breath hitched as the air smelled differently, less cold and dusty, more homely. The shoerack only had three identical pair of shoes, all in a size much larger than she had ever seen. Her dad didn't even wear shoes that big. The rug in front of the door was brown, no welcome or anything written on it. Hooks on line held white lab robes, looking like a novelty store. <br/>Taking hesitant steps, she carefully moved herself into the living room. A small fire filled the room with sounds of crackling, but as she moved closer it was a mirage. A big TV pretending to be a fireplace. How quaint. Above it were pictures in frames, all of a Morty smiling, various planets and aliens all around him. She was so absorbed in the intimacy of the pictures, that she failed to notice the other person entering the room until the tray crashed to the floor. <br/>She jumped, turning to the noise and seeing him for the first time. </p>
<p>A Rick on all fours, picking gingerbread men up into one hand. His hair was just like his grandmother, flared like a lions mane with the signature bald spot in the middle. The blue turtleneck he wore was a stark contrast to the pink frilly apron tied around his waist. Now she understood what the Morty with the glasses meant when he said this was a more innocent Rick. </p>
<p>"Oh, lemme help you," she chirped out, snapping out of her daze too late, rushing over to him. </p>
<p>"No, no, it's fine, I was just surprised, that's all." His voice was rougher than she expected, but she controlled herself enough not to gasp. He lifted the tray with one hand, his surprising biceps flexing, making her mouth into a funny little 3. She entered the kitchen as he did, following behind him like a duckling. "The apron is ironic, by the way." He added, untying it as soon as he had set the tray down, throwing the tainted cookies into a sterilize later-pile. </p>
<p>"Oh- Oh yeah, hahah," she laughed, not sure what that meant. </p>
<p>"So..." he started before coughing far longer than anyone else would, "you're a... you know." He washed his hands, casting a glance at her from over his shoulder.</p>
<p>"A girl?" she looked over at the gingerbread men with her stomach. Ooh, they looked so good. </p>
<p>"Yeah, I just didn't expect that," he said more to himself than her. "Oh well, done is done. I read the contract and all, so don't worry about me going creepy on you, haha." Him mentioning it was probably more creepy than not, but she glossed over the comment, still locking her eyes with gingerbread man. <br/>Oooh, they smelled good too.</p>
<p>"You want one?" He asked, the corner of his mouth perking up as he dried his hands, his eyelids going heavy. HELL YEAH. </p>
<p>"No, I'm not supposed to," she mumbled, still looking directly at it with sad, sad eyes.</p>
<p>"No monetary compensation or gifts," he said out loud before huffing his breath. "I don't think gingerbread cookies count as currency, not even in Christmasland." <br/>Oh, yeah, he was right. Her hungry frown turned into an excited smile before fumbling into confusion. </p>
<p>"Wait, Christmasland?" What did that mean? Santa was real? </p>
<p>"Don't think too hard on it, kid, just eat the cookie." A warmth enveloped her at the nickname. "Kid." Ricc never called her that. It was always a mocking "princess" or "her majesty" whenever she was too demanding. Something worse if they were arguing. <br/>Her sweaty hands reached out, grasping the gingerbread man, or well, gingerbread alien. It had little alien horns and 7 eyes. It was still cute. <br/>She took a hesitant bite, and the explosion of sweetness in her mouth hit the overruning saliva before it hit her tongue. Her eyes lit up and she looked over at the smug Rick.</p>
<p>"Amazing!" she peeped before stuffing the whole thing into her mouth.</p>
<p>"Help me carry the rest into the living room. I figure we'd spend the two hours watching a movie together." </p>
<p>Grandma Ricc never wanted to watch movies. </p>
<p>This was awesome. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>--- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was an action movie. A sequel of a sequel of a sequel, probably more. Straight-to-video if not for how new it was. Did they even print DVDs of this movie? Rick had illegally pirated it, of course, so she wasn't really sure. <br/>There were at least 8 plot points she was sure were references to previous movies down the line, or spin-offs with each main action character, but when she asked Rick he told her to not think too hard about it. </p>
<p>"Action movies are for turning off your brain and admiring the explosions." </p>
<p>So she did. </p>
<p>Chomping the head off a gingerbread man, she admired every car jumping off track, every helicopter swerwing between buildings and every well placed TNT barrell. <br/>Cool. </p>
<p>"Wait, that guy's back? I thought he died, like, an hour ago?" Morticia asked, wiping cookie crumbs off her hands with her jeans. </p>
<p>"Huh? Who?" Rick turned his head to the TV, his eyes preoccupied by the girl for too long. </p>
<p>"That guy with the moustache," she tilted her head upward, as three guys appeared on the screen. </p>
<p>"Uuuh, they all have moustaches, dear, you gotta specify." Dear... She looked down for a second to hold back her smile. </p>
<p>"That one," she pointed at the TV, and Rick did a nod.</p>
<p>"Riiight, I just didn't notice, but yeah, he did." They both chuckled as the credits faded. Perhaps he had a twin brother, or it was another missed plot point? </p>
<p>"Ahh, that was a fun movie!" Morticia stretched as Rick turned it off. </p>
<p>"It was a good two hours of my time, at least," Rick plopped back on the couch just as his wristwatched started beeping. She puckered her lips as he frowned like he was in a morgue. </p>
<p>"Only a few minutes left. So... did you have fun?" He knew what she was going to answer, but figured it was polite. </p>
<p>"Yeah! Your gingerbread cookies were so delicious. I'm sorry I ate so many, god I must seem like a pig!" She drummed on her knees with her forefingers, nervously over-talking. </p>
<p>"No, no," he laughed, "I like girls with a healthy appetite." Her cheeks burned. </p>
<p>"You do?" Even if she hid beneath the floor-boards, he'd surely hear the pounding beneath her ribs. </p>
<p>"Yeah, it's cute." He smiled at her, a smiled that reached his eyes. Her burning cheeks inflamed her ears, but she couldn't hear the flames for the pounding of her heart overtook it. </p>
<p>Flames?</p>
<p>That wasn't flames, that was the sound of a portal opening. </p>
<p>"Seems like it's time to go, missy." Rick got up from the couch, and she stumbled behind him, as they walked over to the hallway, the green glow of the portal illuminating the end. </p>
<p>"Well, thank you for today. It was nice," he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as she walked up to the portal. She turned to him, reaching her hand out for his before he took a step back. </p>
<p>"No-touching rule, right?" He grinned, hands up in the air. Oh, right. Sensing her disappointment, he raised his right hand further, bringing two fingers up into a salute. "See you soon, soldier." He winked at her, making her glow into an open mouthed smile like a sun. </p>
<p>"See you!" she waved at him as she jumped into the portal. </p>
<p>"I hope." He said out loud long after the portal had closed behind her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first thing that greeted Morticia was the elated face of the Morty with the slicked back hair.</p>
<p>"You didn't get eaten!" </p>
<p>Somehow, his words irritated her. The Rick from before was sweeter, much sweeter than her own grandmother had ever been to her. <br/>"No, and I'm not gonna get eaten. I have a Ricc of my own," she defensively sneered, making the Morty shuffle his papers around nervously. </p>
<p>"Oh, right, regarding payment," he carefully avoided the subject, shuffling his papers around until he found the right one,"Your bank account is probably the same as any other Morty. Even so, I set up the transfer. You should have the money by tomorrow morning!" He handed her a piece of paper with lots of official words and small writing on it. She folded it without reading it through and put it in her back pocket. </p>
<p>"My Ricc isn't gonna know, right?" she titled her head with a pout. She really wanted to avoid that conversation. </p>
<p>"Nope. Trust me, we've done this a million times. We put our name as "Tax Office", so no Rick's gonna come within inches of reading where the money's from. It bores them... Well... " Morty ended off, folding his hands. "I think that's it." </p>
<p>He pulled up the gun, waving with his other hand as green filled her eyes. </p>
<p>She was back in her room. </p>
<p>It had all happened so fast. Meeting a Rick, sitting and talking, everything seemed so perfect. She hopped onto her bed, hugging her pillow close to her as she squealed into it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Morticia, come on we gotta do a thing," Ricc's voice was graining to her ears. Besides, she had homework to do. </p>
<p>"Grandma no, you're drunk and I really gotta finish this." She was still mad about the dumb comments from the week before. It was hard to forgive it when her grandma had never apologized for it in the first place. </p>
<p>"Whatever, you're being a little bitch," her grandmother said between burps and coughs. "You're probably too busy thinking about boys to have fun with me, huh?"  <br/>The door smacking behind her, Morticia was left alone. Tapping her finger against the paper, the snappy remarks of her grandmother were getting to her again. Was it so horrible of her to do her homework? Twirling the pen in her hand, restlessness took hold of her until the homework in front of her seemed impossible. The words all melted into nonsene, so she packed them together, leaving them to be finished later. She had a date to think about. <br/>Morticia locked the door. She didn't need any snappy comments now, especially not from a drunk judgemental grandmother. She tried to comb her hair as best as she could, but the more she tried to fix it, the worse it looked, so she gave up on that, hoping it would set itself somehow. Looking at the desk, she spotted the pearl-like hair-clip. <br/>It still fit her, and as she looked in the mirror, studying the way her brown locks curled around it, a portal appeared behind her. Resisting the urge to announce that she'd be right there, she took hesitant steps towards the portal, reappearing in the same dark corridor. </p>
<p>There was no lingering smell of alcohol here. No faint smell of smoke and certainly no looming presence. The air was clean and the lighting cozy. Her heart raced, and with tip toe steps she lingered by the doorway, peeking in to find the living room empty. <br/>All the photos of the Morty were gone. She took brisk steps to confirm it up close, but as she stepped closer she noticed just how much dust were surrounding the sterile spots they used to be. The wall sure looked naked without them, like a museum robbed. </p>
<p>"Oh, you're here already," Ricks voice took her out of her daze, making her turn briskly. </p>
<p>"Uhh, yeah, sorry," she hummed, looking back up on the empty wall.</p>
<p>"No, no, don't..." he didn't finish his sentence when he saw where her gaze was, "Yeah, I, uhh, took them down. It was a little depressing here, I think." He scrached his neck, looking over at the cardboard box by the staircase. </p>
<p>"Your Morty, what happened to him?" She asked, sitting down on the pristinely white couch. He grabbed his coffee cup off the counter and sat next to her, staring out at the empty walls. "Sorry if it's rude to ask."</p>
<p>"No, that's fine, he..." Rick looked down, somberly, and as if all the sadness from his age filled him up and dragged him down, Morticia felt the pressure of death as he spoke. "It was an accident. Car-crash, or you know, airship-, spacecraft-, whatever-you-call-it-crash." He sighed, long and hard as if his soul left him with that breath. "I miss him, a lot." <br/>Morticia looked down, feeling bad for asking in the first place. "I'm sorry." </p>
<p>"No, I mean, I've got you now." He leaned back, taking a sip of coffe, " I mean, I was sure surprised when they sent me a Morticia instead of a Morty, but..." he trailed off, not sure where to go. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," she began, furrowing her brow, "for not being a Morty, you know." </p>
<p>He took another deep breath, thinking carefully about his next words. She twirled her fingers together on her knees. <br/>"No, I don't, that's not what I mean." He set his coffee cup aside, turning so he faced her directly on the couch. "I don't want you to replace him. I'm glad you're a Morticia, because, truth is, I don't need a replacement Morty, I mean, I think that would have just messed me up more, seeing him, but, knowing that it wasn't really him, you know." </p>
<p>She turned towards him, swallowing hard. "Are you sure? I can ask them to send you a Morty instead?" </p>
<p>He smiled at her, nodding, "Yeah, positive." She unclenched her shoulders. "That's why I took the pictures down too, I just, I need to think about something else." He rubbed his forehead, and she leaned towards him. </p>
<p>Her one hand touching his knee, she offered him a reassuring smile. "I'm here, at least, if you ever need to talk, ok?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, I appreciate that." He hid the way his breath hitched at her touch, and when she leaned back he changed the subject, licking his lips. "I like your hair-clip. It's cute on you." <br/>Her face going red, she played with the tip of a lock. "Hah, oh, uh, this old thing?" Lying through awkward chuckles, she unclasped it from her hair, stray locks tangled in it, "I just- ow, ow, ow, found it in, ow, ok now it's stuck, ow, uhm," nervously going astray, he leaned over, his wrinkled fingers expertly detangling every hurt strand. He smelled nicer than any other man she had been near, and goosebumps littered her skin as he guided a lock of hair behind her ear. </p>
<p>"There," he offered her the hair-clip, but just as she was about to take it from him, the needlepin hit the balloon, and her thoughts splattered out of her mouth. </p>
<p>"I-I'm usually not allowed to wear things like that. She doesn't let me," she splurted out. Dancing around the subject of having a Ricc of her own, she continued, "I want to wear makeup and dresses and stuff like that, like girls my age, but she won't let me, and I feel guilty, for even wearing a hairpin." It was only right that she told Rick what was weighing her heart down when he had shared his thoughts so generously. </p>
<p>He chewed on her words for a bit, looking down at the pearl-like pin. <br/>"That doesn't sound right, come here." His calm, beckoning voice spilled the dam within her, and the tears started overflowing. She crawled over to him, and he put the pin back in her hair, trying to keep her hair from falling into her crying face. "I think next time you come here, you bring what you want to wear, makeup, dresses,-" </p>
<p>"-I don't have any," she hiccuped, and he stroked her back as she wiped her tears. </p>
<p>"Then I'll get you some before next time, how about that?" He wiped a tear off her cheek, lifting her face up to his as a bonus. </p>
<p>"You really mean that?" She hoped she wasn't snotting, that would be so un-cool.</p>
<p>"I really do. I wanna make you feel good, okay, dear?" He patted her head, and she nodded, sniffing and wiping her paws all over her face.<br/>"Now," he looked at the watch on his wrist with a sour expression," we don't have much time left, so I'm afraid we can't watch a movie, but we can watch an episode of something if you want?" </p>
<p>She nodded. "I'd like that." </p>
<p>He turned the TV on, changing the channel with a remote she had never seen before. <br/>Turning over into a channel with alien lettering, an episode started, and she leaned into the seat. She heard him patting something, looking over, she saw his hand on his lap. She thought back to when she was four or five years old, sitting on her dads lap as he read the morning newspaper, she had fallen asleep there a few times. </p>
<p>"Sure," she indulged him, crawling over, her legs circling one of his. </p>
<p>Two characters bearing a strange resemblance to them, or at least a Rick and a Morty, were having a heated debate on-screen. As the minutes ticked by, she became aware that perhaps this wasn't just a normal comedy feature. Sure, there were a few jokes that made both of them laugh, but there was a strange tension to the episode halfway through. Doc, (was that his name?) had at one point removed his pants, to which the younger boy was at an unfortunate eye-height. </p>
<p>"Oh, uh, you might wanna look away," Rick laughed. She didn't have time to ask why as suddenly Doc wasn't wearing anything at all, his genitals too HD for the resolution of the screen to even catch up. She didn't manage to look away fast enough, old man genitals filling up her vision before her hands covered her eyes with a squeal. Rick laughed behind her, making something in her stomach tickle as he teased her. </p>
<p>"You did that on purpose," she snapped, laughing herself.</p>
<p>"I tried to warn you," he shook his leg, making her wiggle from side to side, forcing her to remove her hands from her eyes to steady herself. </p>
<p>"It's okay, you can look now, they're done," he assured her, and she peeked with one eye before closing them again with a yelp. They weren't done at all. The younger boy had his tongue out, dragging it across the older mans genitals. </p>
<p>"Rick!" She tried to be mad at him, but she was laughing too much. </p>
<p>"Whoops, my bad," he tickled her sides, and she tried to shake his hands off, but with the way he was bouncing his leg, she had to hold herself steady. </p>
<p>"Sto-Stop tickling me, I'll do anything, just don't tickle me." </p>
<p>"Anything?" His voice husky, her knees clasping around his leg as his hands stopped. She nodded fiercely, looking down at his thigh. She was afraid that she had peed herself on him, but it didn't feel like pee. It felt different, more warm. "Sit down and watch the episode with me, no closing your eyes." <br/>She crawled off his lap, lying down on the couch instead, not trusting his busy hands near her not to try to tickle her again. She let him have her feet instead, pulling them on his lap. Her face completely red, she turned towards the TV, her pride mostly intact as she pouted, watching the young boy licking the older man's ballsack. <br/>Rick gazed at her intently, but he had to. He had to check that she was watching, or else the bet was off, right? <br/>Besides the gross out factor of old man testicles, it was weird, basically watching porn with him. She tried to remind herself that it wasn't really porn, it was just a comedy show, but the odd feeling twirled inside her stomach, her cheeks and around her thighs. Sitting on his lap had felt nice. <br/>The episode was shorter than she thought, and once it was over he turned to her.</p>
<p>"Let's watch another episode next time you're here."</p>
<p>She nodded, her cheeks warm. </p>
<p>"Yeah, let's do that." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>--- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next time the portal emerged in her room she was a little more prepared. She didn't have the guts to steal any of Summers makeup (she knew Summer would hunt her down and destroy her before she could even dream of leaving her room with it), but she had taken the same hair-clip and the overly short miniskirt. </p>
<p>It was gonna be fine, probably. </p>
<p>He was gonna like it, maybe. </p>
<p>Probably, maybe. Surely? </p>
<p>She was having second, third and fourth doubts when the portal emerged. <br/>Knowing there was no time like the present, she stormed through it, grabbing her insecurities over her shoulder and bringing them with her. She grabbed her phone too, just in case. </p>
<p>This time, he was ready for her in the living room. </p>
<p>"Morticia, come on, I've got so much for you." </p>
<p>Swallowing hard, she took slow steps as her clammy hands grabbed onto the sides of the skirt, keeping it down as she walked. </p>
<p>"Whoa, honey," one side of his lip curled upwards as she sat in the couch, feeling awfully exposed, "you look great." </p>
<p>"You think so?" she asked, her words bunched together in nervous sputtering. He nodded, wheeling in a dining cart of girly stuff. </p>
<p>"Let's get started." </p>
<p>The gentle way he held her chin made her gasp, her hands fiddling with the end of the miniskirt, but as time went by and product after product was applied to her face (look up, blink-blink-blink, turn your head a little, now look back at me, now look up again), she not only got used to him being so close, but she even eased into his touch. </p>
<p>"Alright, I think we're done," he said, and as sad as she was for him to step back, she was a little elated that the eyeliner wasn't going dangerously close to her eye-ball anymore. <br/>He brought a mirror over, and she looked at the beautiful stranger staring back at her.</p>
<p>"I look like a model," she laughed, lifting the mirror up into different angles and pouting her red lips with a laugh, "it doesn't look like me at all." Smokey eyeshadow and long false lashes, countor and highlighter really was like magic. </p>
<p>"I think you look beautiful," Rick said from beside her, which made her jump a little. She hadn't noticed that he had sat down at all. </p>
<p>"Th-thanks," she awkwardly put the mirror aside. "That's the first time anyone ever told me that, I think." Maybe her mom had told her, or Summer. Did that count? When family said it?</p>
<p>Oh, but...</p>
<p>Wasn't Rick family too?</p>
<p>Then why did it feel different when he said it to her. Her ears were burning with how red her face was getting.</p>
<p>"Even without makeup, I think you're really beautiful." He was even closer, just a hand away from her. Had he shuffled closer, or had she? She was at the edge of the couch, so it could only have been him. She lost all ability to speak, like a deer in headlights. She stuttered out a syllable, that didn't turn into a word as his hand touched her knee. <br/>Was this going too far? Crossing some secret limit? <br/>It at least violated some of the rules in the manual, but as his face came closer to hers, she couldn't quite recall those rules or why they were there in the first place. When their lips touched, her mind turned completely blank. Her eyes closed as suddenly she was lying down, rough hands tangled into hair, caressing bare legs, her own arms flung around his shoulders. His mouth tasted like heavy coffee, but it wasn't unpleasant, like the breath of a teacher, but sweet, like the scent of a father. <br/>He broke the kiss with her, attacking her neck instead, and as he sucked a mark on her, she let out a soft hiss. He rolled their hips together, and she pushed back into it, just as she felt like she was about to explode in shyness, he circled his tongue around her ear, turning her from a gasping mess into a moaning one. She was painfully aware of how loud she was being, but unable to control herself, she continued, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. He licked a line from her neck to her ear before returning to her mouth, twirling their tongues together, making her knees shake. </p>
<p>The rustle of a zipper made her eyes snap open. </p>
<p>She pushed his shoulder, making him back off a little.</p>
<p>"I- aye, I don't know if I'm ready for, uh," she stammered out, too embarassed to finish her sentence. With ragged breathing he nodded, letting go of his pants, his hands finding her body again as he kissed her again. <br/>She vaguely remembered buying her first bra. Her grandmother had been against it, not understanding why she couldn't just wear an extra shirt beneath. Summer had vaguely mentioned "Kim Possible-tits", and all three of them had been out finding her something appropriate. It was too big for her, Morticia realized now, as it didn't hurt when Ricks hand crawled beneath it, cupping her small breast with his full hand, squeezing it lecherously. His other hand was occupied with her ass. There was a little more to grab there. <br/>Ricks pantleg pushed against her panties, and she let out a mix between a gasp and a moan as he rocked her on it. <br/>Just as he went back to attacking her neck, her phone buzzed.</p>
<p>"Shit, I gotta take it," she huffed, looking over at the phone dancing on the dining cart amongst all the abandoned makeup. </p>
<p>"Come on, babe, leave it," he rocked her a little harder, and her mind fogged up, arm reaching out for the phone just out of reach. </p>
<p>"I gotta, like, what if it's Ricc?" She mumbled out, leaning a little further. His leg paused, he sat up, looming over her. She didn't notice the change in atmosphere. </p>
<p>"What did you say?" </p>
<p>She looked over at him, her eyes snapping open as she saw just how dark his expression had become. </p>
<p>"Wha- it's... I said it might be my Ricc, you know?" she awkwardly tried to laugh it off, but as she tried to reach for her vibrating phone once again, he grabbed her wrist, her blood turning ice cold.</p>
<p>"You never told me you had a Rick," -"Knock it off," she countered as he grabbed both her wrists, interchanging them around so he clasped both her dainty wrists in one hand. She finally noticed the danger she was in when he pinned her down to the couch, his legs locking hers into place. No, no, no, he was supposed to be one of the nice Ricks, the Morty had told him so. He was a nice Rick, so why was he suddenly so angry?</p>
<p>"You let him do these things to you too?" His free hand taking his belt off, she wiggled beneath him, knowing it was useless. "NO!" she screamed back, her brain going into survival mode. It seemed unreal, surreal, he was so nice a second ago. It had to be a bad joke, there was no way he could become so violent when he had been nothing but nice to her for so long. </p>
<p>"You're lying, I bet you do this with a ton of Ricks. Trying to act all sweet and innocent." He barked out, some of his spit hitting her face.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the voice of the Morty warning her rang in her ears. </p>
<p>"They eat Morticias," the Morty had said. </p>
<p>Her mind going completely blank, she barely registered that the belt was being tied around her hands as she trashed around on the couch, kicking and screaming. A hand going around her throat, she coughed and sputtered, trying to angle her head down to bite it, but feeling it just out of reach. </p>
<p>"I can't believe I fell for you. I can't believe I liked you, you little whore."<br/>If only she could grab it. She could call someone. Her Ricc, the Morty at the front desk, her mom or dad, Summer, anyone. Someone had to help her, help her now, or she'd die. <br/>She trashed and screamed, but the more noise she made, the tighter the grip on her throat. <br/>"Shut up, shut up," he chanted, ripping her panties off of her. Did he break them? She cursed her mind for worrying about the dumbest things. Her life was at stake, who cared about the state of her clothes now? Her grandmother was right, he was going to rape her and kill her, and she was the dumbest girl in the galaxy, worrying if her clothes were ripped instead of her safety. Ricc was right, and Morticia was going to die for being a defiant teen. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she had too little air to cry. Her bound hands beat against the hand around her neck, she didn't want to die here, she didn't want to die. <br/>"You're gonna be mine. You're gonna be all mine. Once you're inside me, there's no way you can belong to anyone but me," Ricks voice droned on, sounded like he was possessed by something, his eyes wide open as his mouth was drooling, resembling more a wolf than a man. </p>
<p>In her mind there had been no warning signs that he would do this, but perhaps they had been there all along. <br/>What kind of grandfather would watch porn with his grand-daughter? Call her pretty? Kiss her or try to do anything else with her. She deserved to die for being so stupid, for thinking she deserved to be treated nicely. She had never cared about the money, she didn't even check her bank account for how much she had made. </p>
<p>She just wanted someone to love her. </p>
<p>Her heartbeat drummed in her head, reminding her that she needed to breathe, she needed air, she needed to live, but the harder he clasped around her neck, the more her head ached. She couldn't scream, she couldn't thrash anymore. Her vision fogged up and she rattled, her hands uselessly falling down on his arm as her vision faded, something flickering being the last thing she heard before everything faded. </p>
<p>Black.</p>
<p>Everything was entirely empty, black.</p>
<p>Then she woke up. </p>
<p>She barely had time to register where she was, but with the uncomfortable way her head rolled, she was still on the couch. </p>
<p>The first thing greeting her wasn't a Rick, though, but the glasses Morty. </p>
<p>"Oh, thank god you're awake." </p>
<p>Her hands tickled, and looking down, there was a red mark from the belt that had been clasped around her wrists. It had been removed recently. The Morty pulled her miniskirt down, his face red, having obviously seen more than he bargained for. </p>
<p>"Uhm, so, you're safe now. Sorry about that," the Morty mumbled out. She wanted to ask how, and what had happened, but her hoarse voice wouldn't let her.</p>
<p>"You guys were way over-time, and I came to check up on you, luckily I got here in time before he really began, you know, so..." he akwardly scratched the back of his head, "I called the Rick security squad and they took him out." Morticia sat up, her hands moving up her legs as she tucked them to herself, embracing them. </p>
<p>That's when she felt something sticky. </p>
<p>She looked down at her hand, seeing too much red. </p>
<p>Her eyes going wide, she stretched her legs out again, to her horror putting two and two together. </p>
<p>A cut, too deep to be accidental, neatly inside her thigh, as if disturbed midway, L-shaped. </p>
<p>"Yeah, he was about to take a good chunk out of you," Morty badly joked, telling from her terrified expression that it wasn't a good one. "Turns out some Ricks do go insane and, you know, eat Morticias." He tried to explain himself, but her hands clasped around her mouth, trying not to vomit. Looking down, she saw the giant knife on the ground, sharp and for meat. She wasn't sure if she was grateful that she wasn't awake for that part, or horrified of what had transpired while she was unconsious. She felt defiled. Whatever had happend on her leg would leave a scar forever reminding her of how foolish she had been, thinking someone could ever love her. </p>
<p>Hyperventilating, Morty awkwardly patted her back.</p>
<p>"Hey, hey, it's not your fault. You're lucky I got here in time, you know." His words did little to calm her down, and seeing as there was nothing he could do, he let out a sigh, adjusting his glasses.</p>
<p>"Look, why don't you go home? I'm sure your Rick misses you."</p>
<p>She nodded, her breathing settling down. Maybe she would be nice to her, for a change. Maybe she'd be mad at her, yell at her for not answering the call. She'd like that too. With shaking hands, she grabbed her panties, putting them on, Morty looking away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ricc was in the living room. <br/>Asleep on the couch in front of the Tv, Morticia tip toed inside.  <br/>It was completely dark, only the light of the TV illuminating couch and the sleeping form on it.<br/>It reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, but where it had made her nauseous before, it had brought her calm now. She sat down next to her grandmother, careful not to wake her up. Nuzzling into her white coat, her hand circled around her, holding her close. Instinctively, her grandmothers long arm swung around her, tightening the hug. <br/>Morticia couldn't keep it inside, and with shaking shoulders she cried into her grandmothers arms. <br/>Ricc pretended to be asleep, sitting still all night as her granddaughter finally closed her eyes and slept on top of her, falling until her head was nuzzled into her grandmothers lap. </p>
<p>"It's a harsh world out there, Morti. It pains me that you had to find out so soon." She whispered, stroking her hair as the young girls breathing finally settled.</p>
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